


The ABC's of Crushes: A Memoir by Jeon Wonwoo

by I_Reflect_The_Sun



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Childhood, Childhood Friends, Children, Crushes, Cute Kids, Growing Up, M/M, Memoirs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-07
Updated: 2019-09-03
Packaged: 2020-08-11 00:50:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20144830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_Reflect_The_Sun/pseuds/I_Reflect_The_Sun
Summary: After many years of hiding his crush on the boy who had become his best friend, Jeon Wonwoo finds himself writing about the many things that Kwon Soonyoung has made him feel over the years. Here you will find many of the moments that he and Soonyoung have shared, simple glimpses of the entwined life they have had since their meeting, and all the little ways he has fallen further and further into his crush.°°°°*Tags will be added as time goes on





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Ay, I'm back! Writing a thing no one needed!
> 
> Eh that's okay. That's just how writers work lol. It be how it be. 
> 
> I hope whoever reads this finds some joy in my writing! If there are any mistakes, critiques or the like that should be mentioned, please let me know. 
> 
> Okay, idk what else is to be said. Have fun? Yeah, have fun.

The two of them started with a pair of screams.

One was a yellow scream, jovial and vibrant, half laugh in nature. A skeleton of excitement with a skin of childish humor. Chubby cheeks and a large smile mirror the structure of this scream, and give birth to it from the frame of a tiny five year old boy. His feet stumble over themselves, trying desprately to evade a tagger and the threat of becoming 'It'.

The other was a purple scream, high and terrified, all surprise and no fun. Built from shock and fear in equal measure, twining together behind two tightly closed eyes. Its escape is a quiet mouth without a choice in the matter, the body it is attached to sent tumbling under the force of another boy the same age.

They started with a pair of screams, as different as could be. They were opposites, they always would be, and Wonwoo knew that very well. Not that he minded.

☆☆☆☆

The room is large and square, each wall painted a different pastel shade and every table ready with a list of four names in its center. Orderly and clean, the sort of safe space that every kindergarten classroom should be. The door, which is propped open by a chair with tennis balls on its legs, is covered in rainbows- 15 of them, Wonwoo made sure to count- and outside a chorus of happy squeals can be heard. Classmates, running around and playing with one another. His teacher sits at her desk, her long hair pulled back into a pretty braid, glancing out side every moment or two to check on her students.

From where Wonwoo sits he can see the butterfly clips in her hair, ones that himself and his classmates were allowed to put into her braid earlier that day. They are bright in the sun that streams across her desk, shades of purple and blue glittering in the light. Stray hairs dip down, escaped from clip and braid alike, and hang over a book as big as the ones his Mommy likes to read. He wants to read it too, and see what makes those big books so interesting, but be isn't old enough. He hasn't practiced enough, not yet. That's okay. He will get there, one day. That's what mommy tells him, and he trusts that she is right.

Practice, practice- he wants to read, and he will. This is the one day a week he is allowed to stay inside and read, he shouldn't waste it wishing he could read a bigger book. A sigh escapes puffed up cheeks, he shakes his head, and then it's back to reading, hanging over a collection of Frog and Toad.

Tuesday has gone well for the him so far. Math made sense, as it always does. Circle time was quiet and they got to watch an episode of Bill Nye. The girl who always sneezes on him is absent. A good day, the sort that deserves a pat on the back.

Outside some children skip rope, trying to beat one another in their records. A girl plays on the monkey bars, going back and forth over and over. 6 kids are playing a game of tag, and have been for a while now. Things are normal and happy.

Then someone runs inside, skidding around the doors edge and trying desprately to avoid being tagged. His shrieking giggles eminate through the room as their teacher calls his name and that of his pursuer, telling both to stop. But he is too busy running with his face turned back, tongue sticking out of his mouth between giggles. Then his feet are out from under him, and he screams, the happy scream of someone just playing a game to play, not to win or lose. His tumble is quick, end over end, face to carpet and legs flailing in the air. The breath is forced out of his chest, but still, he is happier than not, although the scrape of his cheek across the floor is less than pleasant.

In the same instant Wonwoo is jarred into reality, the book thrown from his lap, his body sent tumbling under the weight of someone his own size. His scream is far less happy. In fact, its terrified and high pitched, accompanied by the smack of a knee into his nose and his head to the floor. Both arms are pinned under him. What happened he can't be sure, but it was sudden and it caused him hurt.

They tumble to the ground together, one removed from imagination as the other fails to evade his pursuer. Limbs tangle in the frantic seconds after the impact.

"Soonyoung!"

Another yell of that name rings out, and shuffled steps follow quickly behind it, both stern in a motherly way. Under the noise Wonwoo whimpers faintly, one hand managing to free itself and press against his aching nose. Soonyoung is the first to get himself upright, both hands pushing himself up over the fallen Wonwoo. Half his face turned red from rug burn and tears already run down his cheeks. He hears his name, but doesn't look toward it the way he should. He isn't disobedient, really he isn't- he just wants to be of help to the poor kid bringing a second hand to his nose.

A series of sniffles accompanies the soft tugging of Wonwoo's jacket, Soonyoung doing what he can to be of help to the person he had just hurt. Guilt is already clear in his narrow eyes- Wonwoo can see it in the blurry squinting be tries to maintain. Both of his elbows swivel down, trying to sit himself up as well, and the pair manage to get him upright together. The world is swimming around Wonwoo, and he has to shut his eyes so he won't face it.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." Soonyoung is babbling, trying to rub the sides of his arms, wipe the water from his leaking eyes. He can't see it, but half the boy's face is bright red, and the apple of it is starting to bleed a little. Something wet is starting to materialize on his sleeves. Syllables are blurring together as they spill from Soonyoung's lips, his tearful eyes still firmly on Wonwoo. "I'm sorry I fell on you! Are you okay?" The boys hand tugs at other tugs Wonwoo'a sleeve. It dislodges one hand.

Five little fingers are bright with blood, more escaping from his nose, and the sight is so startling that Soonyoung goes still, a sleeve caught in his grasp. Big brown eyes stare at the hand. No one moves. The stillness makes Wonwoo's chest tighten, so he opens his eyes to see what is going on. His hand is red. Too red. A spark of fear races through his mind.

Their teacher crouches before the two boys just as a shriek of fear escapes him. Flutters of worry and worried noises invade Wonwoo's space, as well as a tissue that squeezes past his sleeve and presses to the source of the red on his hand. It's pinch is just a little too hard, the urge to pull away barely stifled under the need to get help- if he's bleeding all over his hands, he just *has* to be dying. Nothing else makes sense. Tiny hands shake, afraid of getting red everywhere or making things worse. The soothing words do nothing to help calm him. He just wants his Mommy.

While pain has not gone away, it is subsumed by a tide of fear- one that blocks out his memory for the next few minutes. No matter how hard he tries, in the years to come he will only ever have Soonyoung's account of those couple minutes. The ones where his hands are cleaned by his teacher and find their way to the hem of a fellow students shirt. The ones where babbled apologies melt into Soonyoung's hand keeping a tissue to his nose. Neither have stopped crying.

His eyes blink open when he didn't remember closing them, and they land on the profile of his classmate, looking at their teacher. She huddles over the phone by their door, speaking to someone on the other side of the line. Wonwoo blinks, heart rate slowing, the pain in his face dulled to a steady ache that refuses to be removed.

He let's go of Soonyoung's sweater, and makes an effort to pinch his own nose. The touch is too tight like this. Or- what if it's the only thing keeping him alive? As the hand helping him falls away, he finds himself pinching his nose as hard as he can. He doesn't want to die. He doesn't want to.

"I'm-I'm sorry! I didn't mean to kick you-" Soonyoung rushes, the high pitched worrying he had been doing a moment before making its return, "Was I pinching too hard? I'm so sorry, Mrs. Han told me to be careful- I'm sorry."

Wonwoo had always been quiet. He didn't enjoy talking very much and tended to find company among others who avoided words. Silence came to him when he panicked, or found himself in pain. But words seem neccisary now, especially since someone was trying to save him from emptying all the blood from his body.

"Thank you." His eyes are still welling with tears, partially in fear and partially from the sharp pressure of his pinching.

Soonyoung is confused, that much is clear. A furrow forms on his brow, his quick-moving lips scrunched up into a pursed line. "For what? I kicked you- I hurt you." Built fills out the creases that had crossed his face with the confusion.

Wonwoo shifts, blinking fast to get rid of tears. "You tried to keep me from dying."

There is nothing for a minute but staring. Then Soonyoung giggles, both hands over his little mouth. The rug burned cheek bunches up from it, and now it is Wonwoo's turn to furrow his eyebrows.

"You can't die from a bloody nose!"


	2. A- Amazement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amazement  
N. A feeling of immense surprise or wonder; something that causes great astonishment

A new set of walls surround Wonwoo, each one painted pastel yellow and lined with rows of cabinets or chairs. Cartoon animal stickers line the cabinet doors, ones as big as his head, and he chooses to stare at them from his seat by the door instead of look at Soonyoung, sitting to his left. A giraffe with too-short legs shares eye contact with him, his fingers still pinched too hard over his bruised nose. He should stop that, but his fingers aren't really listening. 

He hadn't expected there to be a wait to see the nurse- from his perspective, almost no one at school ever got hurt. This place is safe, and must hurts are just bumps and bruises, the kind teachers can take care of all on their own. Today he comes to realize that that is rather false.

On his and Soonyoung's awkward walk go the office they were both faced with this fact in the form of a tall girl limping down the hall. Both knees bloodied and her pace quite slow, they ended up near her rather quickly. While she had insisted that she didn't need any help because she was in second grade, they each ended up taking one of her arms to help her along. Neither said anything about it, nor came to a verbal agreement. They both just stood and waited to help. No matter how awkward the situation, Wonwoo can always appreciate other boys who don't hurt girls. The ones who want to help. Its mature, as his Mommy says.

Surprising as it was to find that they weren't the only ones to be hurt that day, neither of them minded. Soonyoung tried to make the girl- Eunji- laugh, and Wonwoo focused on keeping them moving. And not letting his nose bleed anymore, of course. Their method got the three of them to the office pretty quick, and Soonyoung made a new friend in under 10 minutes. That is definitely a talent Wonwoo lacks.

Eunji ended up being helped out first once they were at the nurses door and she had spotted them- Soonyoung didn't even have to insist, although he certainly did- and that left the two boys to sit at the front of this office. In silence. Not the good kind either. The kind that makes the back of his head prickle and the air feel weirdly heavy.

Normally he would be fine with it, but what he had seen since school began was that Soonyoung almost never stopped talking. He could be quiet during lessons, and raised his hand to answer questions, but during free time his mouth was always spilling out vibrant words. Sometimes jokes so loud Wonwoo could hear them at his seat and find himself giggling along. Sometimes peals of laughter that spread to his classmates. The two had never spoken before today, and even then it was barely two sentences, but it was just too quiet. Too quiet for the Soonyoung he usually saw. That isn't enough to make Wonwoo talk, though. He was still embarrassed for thinking he was going to die. God did that make him feel stupid.

How had he jumped to such a silly conclusion?

"I'm still sorry."

The giraffe falls out of Wonwoo's line of sight, and into it comes Soonyoung's shiny black hair and rug-burned cheek. His heart rate picks up, surprise showing behind the ruffle of red and white tissue at his nose.

"Oh...it's okay." Head tucking down, Wonwoo becomes a turtle retreating inside its shell, his eyes hidden behind his bangs.

"But I hurt you!"

Soonyoung's voice is not loud, but the guilt in his eyes is prevalent, as is the redness that rims them. He has turned to face Wonwoo, both of his big sleeves pooled on the chair between his legs. Wonwoo shrinks lower, unsure how to react, what to think. Most kids would move on from an injury. Why not just do that?

Silence drags out in an unbroken thread.

"You got hurt too."

"But I made you bleed-"

"And you got your face scraped on the ground."

Soonyoung blinks, surprised, but when he touches his cheek he winces. "That's not as bad though."

"I said its okay." Wonwoo doesn't sound angry. More diffident, offering comfort. Or trying to. His eyes glue to the tiled floor, the edges of his tissue blurring as he stops focusing on vision.

"...Are you sure?"

He nods. Fabric shifts and a chair squeaks.

"Okay..."

They return to awkward quiet. The nurse walks past, clearly on her way to do something important. Wonwoo wishes he had brought his book with him, and that he had not panicked earlier. Soonyoung starts humming under his breath, soft and quiet. The ticking of the clock grows louder and louder, and Wonwoo is starting to let his imagination take over when the silence is again broken.

"Why do you stay inside on Tuesdays?"

The world snaps into focus, but Wonwoo doesn't look up.

"So that I can read."

"You like reading?"

Wonwoo nods, turning to look at the young boy. His head is cocked to the side, curiosity having replaced guilt. Fluffy bangs hang across his eyes. The sight kind of makes him want to smile.

"Do you?"

"Sometimes. I like science books a whole bunch!"

"Really? I like those too. What about mysteries?"

"Totally! Scooby Doobie Doo all the way!"

And easy as that, the two boys are talking with one another, animated in that way that only children tend to be. Scrapes and tissues don't stop their conversation. Babbling Soonyoung appears, happy to speak and be spoken to. Everything he says is filled with a subtle, sweetened kind of enthusiasm, the likes of which would be enough to make many smile. Wonwoo is drawn out of his shell and into a magnetic orbit. Birthday's are traded back and forth, interests in reading and soccer and drawing. There may as well have been no awkwardness between the two.

All too soon the nurse is back, sweeping Wonwoo out of the flurry of conversation and into her office. The excitement disappears, and he returns to his quiet tendencies, sitting as he is told to.

The bundle of white and red tissue is disposed of almost as soon as he is settled, his nose touched and stared at from odd angles. It's a little uncomfortable, as doctor visits usually are, but to his surprise it's a quick check. She asks what happened, and in less than ten minutes he is back out the door with ice for his bruised face, being instructed to wait for Soonyoung. His mother will be notified before he is to leave. So he sits and waits, staring once again at that giraffe.

____________

"...this big dog, and if I help her wash the dishes she let's me play with him. He has so much fur, it's crazy. Sometimes I think my hands might get lost, or maybe my head!"

Two hands swing back and forth, propelled by the same person who speaks with such vigor. Wonwoo follows, captured once more in this magnetic orbit, enamored with the way that Soonyoung can spin words more interesting than those on a page. Its incredible. Why is up for debate. He doesn't mind that, because its certain other people feel it too. He is just one more kid to fall into this. He doesn't mind that either.

"How do you lose your head in a dogs fur?"

"By getting trapped under him!" Soonyoung exclaims, giggles tearing out after the sentence. It is loud, but Wonwoo can't help smiling. A hallway isn't the place to be giggling over big dogs or getting caught in conversation, especially when class is going on. That insight, as useful as it should be, can't help him hold in his own peals of laughter. "Hey, do you like cats or dogs better? I like dogs cause they like to play, but I think cats are way prettier."

"Oh- I like cats. My grandma has a hairless one that is so soft. She sits in my lap if I'm still enough-"

Wonwoo cuts himself off, distracted by the crinkle of paper in Soonyoung's pocket, the faint giggle that comes with it. "I knew you would like cat's better." He says, stealing the hand he had been holding away to work at something. It looks like paper, but the angle makes it hard to tell. He suspects Soonyoung is doing that intentionally, so that he won't know.

"Close your eyes real quick." A beat of silence. "Please."

Wonwoo blinks, and considers the request. The excited smile and pedaling feet tell him this could be either good or bad, but he finds even as he is thinking on it he is shutting his eyes, scrunching his nose.

"No, I mean a relaxed close your eyes! Like pretending to be asleep."

"Oh..." Wonwoo holds back a giggle, forcing his face to relax, his sore nose to un-scrunch under the plastic bag of ice, his eyelids trying to stay still. It feels better to shut his eyes this way, as though caught mid blink.

The sound of stickiness being pulled off plastic follows the dark at the back of his eyelids. There is a tug at his ice pack before a hand takes his wrist to move it away. "Stay still," Soonyoung tells him as a slightly soft material touches the front of his nose, and then stickiness moves down the sides, keeping the whole thing in place. A little pressure runs along those sticky bits, keeping them in place.

Once the band-aid is placed, Wonwoo opens his eyes, trying to look down as though he would be able to see it. But of course he can't. "Oh?"

"I thought you deserved a kitty band-aid too," Soonyoung says, smiling so wide his eyes close and turn into little lines, "So I asked for an extra."

He is surprised by the gesture, his free hand coming to touch the plastic outside of the band-aid, and the bruising nose underneath. Something in his chest moves weird, out of time with the rest of him. Soonyoung giggles, and to his surprise walks right into their classroom. When did they get here?

Wonwoo presses the ice to his nose again and stares at the closing door, cheeks flushed in confused awe of what just happened.

Did he make a friend so quickly?

☆☆☆☆☆

Hindsight is 20/20, as many people have noted. You see the things you never would have noticed in the moment. The residual pieces of life. The whispers of meaning and your own thoughts. The left over puzzle pieces that didn't quite fit.

Hindsight isn't always perfect though. Years later, and I know that pieces of this memory are wrong. They have to be. I've lived through so many stories, taken part in thousands of conversations. I remember so many things- the tingles in my chest, the shame, the unfiltered childishness that was in my body at the time. But I don't remember all of what was said, or how we ended up talking to each other.

I look back at this time, and I remember pieces. The band-aid, stuck across my nose by 5 year old fingers. The bumpy blue chairs we sat on in their uneven line. The giraffe with its eyelashes and too-short legs. Soonyoung's apology.

Other parts I only know of because people told me about them. How Soonyoung came to fall over me. The name of that little girl. How I was hugged, and apologized to again and again. These pieces come from Soonyoung, bits shared over hot chocolate at age 12, or at a club where his chest heaves and my eyes won't leave the strands of hair stuck to his forehead.

There is one thing I can say for sure, and that I know with such certainty that if I lived through it again I would pin the same title to it. I developed a crush this day. It wasn't instant- it took a conversation, some smiles, a band-aid- but this was the day it started, and the series of events that would lead me to write this.

I will say this now: I did not fall in love at such a young age. It was not the type of love at first sight that left me breathless and made it easy to be around Soonyoung. No, I developed my crush, and eventually fell in love, very slowly. It took years. But that was okay for me, because I spent years unaware of how odd this crush would make me feel in the future. I was happy.

Soonyoung has always known how to make me happy, even if he didn't know it, but sometimes the crush itself ruined my day. Sometimes a week. Even a whole month once. The act of having a crush- falling in love- sucked sometimes. It was a it match and a breath of fresh air. Good and bad.

Don't think of this as a net positive or a net negative. This is not a condemnation of love, or a celebration of it. This is a retelling of the moments that mattered to me, and how they made me feel. A through Z. Amazement. Hesitant. Solidarity. Everything.

Because for me, Soonyoung is not one emotion. He is every single one, pulled together, and balanced in his hands. And on this day, so many years ago, that balance took the shape of a band-aid and the blush across my face as I followed him back to class.


End file.
